Wow, it's been almost a month. My apologies! School only seemed to get worse over the past few weeks. But volleyball will be over next week, so I'll try and get more writing done then! :)
My exams flew by. I passed all of them, and actually did better that I usually did. When John heard this, he accredited it all to himself, saying I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't forced me to study. That was entirely true, but I wasn't about to let him gloat about it for the next two months. Now a week into summer, I had those two and a half months to do whatever I pleased. I was sunny and hot all week, perfect weather with clear skies. Most would think I'd be having the best time of my life, but what was I doing? I was lying with my head in my sister's lap complaining because John is stupid.
Last week, Rose had been busy in her own world, studying her best to keep her perfect grades and ace all her exams. And as of this past week, he mother went through her usual clinging phase of spending ever second with her and doing pointless things only to pass it off as "Mother-Daughter bonding". I finally had my needed therapy time now that she was finally free from the parental grasp of an alcoholic, slurring mother hen. Given the fact that sometimes I didn't mind rose's incessant need to analyze every part of my life.
This night, I didn't even know what time it was. All I knew is that it was dark and I was tired. But we were down a jug of chocolate milk and a package of Oreos. This was about the time that the sleepy rambling ensued. I was that time in the middle of the night, on the verge of passing out, when there was no control over your words or the thoughts that aimlessly passed through your lips.
There were fingers curling through my hair and a quiet humming as I talked. Every now and then, she'd interject to add a comment, but for the most part just let run with the babbles she usually stopped.
"So, are you out now?" The blatancy of the question caught me off guard- it really shouldn't have with where the conversation was going and the fact that I was talking to Rose of all people, but… still
Even so, I still took a moment to let my eyes trail away before I said anything.
"I don't know about that." It came out in a mutter, but oh no, she wasn't having that.
Cupping my cheek, she brought my face back to make me stare straight up at her.
"Are you, or are you not? It's a rather simple question."
We had a small staring battle, even with my shades; she knew exactly where my eyes were. I never quite knew why I did this; she always won, so there was really no point. A held in breath leaked out before the rest of my reluctant words.
"Not really."
He knee jerked up knocking my head right into the hand that she moved in front of my forehead. There was a smack against it before my head fell back into her lap. She was quick. Kudos on that one.
"Not an answer."
"I'm not to- well everyone," She opened her mouth, nut I cut back in. "But. I am to you."
"Doesn't count. I knew it before you did."
"And Bro."
"And I bet he took it horribly. She drawled out sarcastically.
"He was more like you. Kind of willed me, more bothered, me to admit it. My guessing is by now the dick's told Jake about it too- and if we're really lucky your mom and Jane as well.
"I never quite understood how the four of them became friend. Or even acquaintances for that matter." Rose commented as she returned to scratching lightly through my hair.
"I wonder that about out little group as well." I replied as my eyes slipped closed with the comforting sensation.
"Well, I've known you since your babbling infancy, Jade could befriend a rock, and John is just enough of an ass to not get on the verge of your tolerance. There is a fine line of annoying you and having the capability to actually entertain your egotistical persona that he has seemed to flawlessly cross."
"I think that's a compliment."
"It was not."
"Doesn't mean I'm not taking it as one."
"More importantly," She began- I already knew this wasn't going anywhere good. "Does John know?"
"Fuck no." I cut back quickly with a certain bite that I in no way intended. "Would you like me to die of humiliation?"
"I can't say it wouldn't be an entertaining sight."
I flailed my hand, smacking whatever I could without opening my eyes.
"Well I'm not going to."
"Wouldn't it be better if he knew of your infatuation?"
"Hell no, he'd be disgusted."
She sighed, and with my eyes opening, I could see her pursed lips. She tugged at a strand of my hair in a disgruntled manor to show her annoyance.
"And just how do you know that? John could very well be in hiding about his sexuality."
"No, let's go with the fact that he had a disgusted look when Bro even kissed Jake's cheek. Or that he flat out told me he thinks it's weird."
There was a scoff from above as she waved her free hand.
"I feel I should comment on the fact that many people hiding their sexuality are resentful and even mock what they wish they could be open about."
"Can you please stop saying the word sexuality? You and sexy should not be in the same sentence."
Another tug at my hair. "Oh I'm flattered- thank you, David."
"I'm just sayin'."
"Well, 'I'm just sayin''" She added with a mocking tone. "That you might need to remember a few weeks back. Your denial was pretty strong. You bashed your current choosing pretty hard"
"He's not gay, Rose."
"You never know." She cooed, leaning down a bit to stare directly at me.
"He's not. I replied just as strong.
"Tsk, tsk, such a pessimist.
"I'm being realistic- you're the pessimist of the group.
"True, but She started moving her knees again and pulling her hand from my hair. "I'm tired and you're being mopey."
Another week passed without me leaving my house all that much. I still had barely seen anyone all summer. Other than the occasional day with Rose or meeting John for lunch or to play video games, my life was relatively boring. Boring up until the night almost everything I knew was a lie.
I woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt. Those damn reoccurring nightmares always waking me up. I sat up, hands rubbing my face before wiping the small amount of sweat from my forehead. Goddammit why was it always so hot during the summer? Kicked the covers from my legs and swung my feet over the edge of the bed. I padded my way through the apartment, hands rubbing my eyes until I got into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass from the sink and filled it with water from the sink. Taking a sip, I sniffed while scratching my stomach and staring out towards the window across the room.
My attention was on that starlit sky and the bright moon until a quiet murmur from down the hall drew my eyes away. A dim light shone from the bottom of my brother's bedroom door that was cracked open slightly.
I picked my glass up and moved back around from the counter. I tried my best not to make any noise as I crept closer to the door. The low sounds turned into actual word as I listened in. Jake's voice was the first thing I could manage to pick up on.
"You never really told me about your parents. I mean, even when we were young you didn't say much about them."
He was right, Bro never talked about our parents even to me. I went off of the vague memory and a few family photos that were for some reason hidden throughout the apartment.
"It's never very enjoyable to talk about people you hated."
His reply made me brows furrow and my feet to move even closer. My eyes poked through the crack in the doorway to see his head resting on Jake's and an arm wrapped around his waist. It was almost weird to see his shades discarded when he was around someone else, but I guessed it was kind of like the situation I had with John. After so long, something like an abnormal eye color only seems normal to them.
The situation I had with John plus the benefit of openly being able to love each other. Yeah, okay, that had to be nice.
But hate? He hated them? That had never been brought up... He never talked about them, but I didn't think that meant he hated them.
"But you never explained why. Gosh Dirk, for as long as I've known you all I've gotten is 'I hate them. I don't want to talk about it.' We've been dating for what? Almost six years- and you still don't have the gusto to tell me what happened?"
"I don't-"
"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I've let this go for too long."
"You do realize we have this exact conversation at least twice a year, right? And by the end you give up and we move on. Can't we just skip the fight this time and move on without us becoming pissed at each other?"
"'Fraid not. This time I'm not giving up."
"Stubborn ass." That gained him a flick to the head.
"For frigs flipping sake, Dirk. Why do you have to be so defensive?"
"Because," He muttered reluctantly. "Any time I just think about them I get angry."
The hand that flicked him soon moved into his hair and began scratching lightly.
"But why?"
He took a deep breath that came out as a sigh. "Well, my mother was a bitch to start with. She always had been. When I was really young, I can remember her being nicer, but she was young. I mean, she was sixteen when she got pregnant; she had the time to be happy. But in the later years... Especially when Dave was born- she just, lost herself. By the time I was ten she was just bitter and narcissistic about everything."
"And your dad?"
"God, he's a whole different kind of dick. I don't think I've ever met a person I loathe more than I did that man. He was a jerk to me and to my mom. And you know about Rose. What kind of sick man does that? He was thirty one fucking years old. It was weird enough to be having a second child when I was eleven, but to knock up some girl like Roxy it's... It's-"
"So fucked up." Jake finished with the shake of his head.
"Exactly. Fucked up. And if things hadn't been bad enough around the house. When mom found out what he's done, I thought that was going to be it. But no, they stayed together because she was pregnant. They tried to use the excuse of a baby to be happy, but I knew it wouldn't last. And fucking Dave-"
He cut himself off, head turning down to burry itself in the other man's chest. Jake brought his face back up, brows creasing but nowhere as much as mine.
What about me?
"What about Dave?"
His expression was almost guiltily as he shook his head. "The kid's so fucked up." My grip on my glass tightened and a deep set frown hit my face. "He's just fucking like him." He continued with a slight hiss and a now a scowl.
"But you were nothing life your father- and I'm sorry if this bothers you, but you and Dave are like bark from the same tree."
"That's because I've made him that way. You knew how different he was when he was young. That's when he reminded me of him; when he was still alive. He was over emotional and never knew when to stop. I've tried to get Dave to believe he can't let everything freak him out, and for the most part he's done alright. Except now he thinks he can never let anything out and has to stay all tight and restricted all the time. And hell, he still doesn't know when to just stop. They seclude themselves or fight back when they're angry. I think that's the one thing I'll never be able to get out of him. Once the kid gets going, he's going to yell until he's broken down or someone's punched him in the jaw. It's fine when everything's okay and normal, but the second he gets stressed or scared or angry, he becomes the man I hated for half my life. I've tried to change him- for the better. Make sure he wouldn't end up the same way, but I think I've just fucked him up more."
"But you have to realize he's not your father."
"I know… But can't you see he's too similar?"
"You can't hate him because of genetics. He is your father's child, and it's not his fault that he took to his ways- it's only natural."
"I don't hate him. Not anymore."
"There was a time where you did though."
"I know there was, but those times were different. Our parents were still alive, we were in danger and yet he was still this happy little kid. Mom cherished him- saying he was what kept our family together. We had been long broken though. He was an accident- I was an accident. They were people never meant to have children. They never loved me. They never loved him. They only loved themselves."
My grip got continuously tighter on the glass, my frown now turning into a glare. What'd he know? They loved me- I know they did. What place did he have saying they didn't?
"Dirk…" Jake breathed out, a hand moving to slowly rub circles on his back. "That's not true. Of course they loved you. You two were their children."
"Parents don't have to love their children, Jake." He sat up before continuing strongly. "It's not a requirement. People do have love for their children, but when they are unwanted and revered as nuisances, there is no love to be given. Would a mother who loves her children not feed them because all the money was wasted on alcohol and cigarettes? Would a father who loves his children beat them because he was drunk and they were just trying to get him to calm the fuck down before something worse happened?" His voice was continually rising. "Do I need to show you the scars again? Cause I will dammit! Broken bottles, knife cuts, cigarette burns, choose your liking, I've got plenty! I want you to look at them and then look me in the eyes and tell me he loved us. Just. Fucking. Try."
"Calm down… It's okay." Jake offered meekly, moving his hand to touch gently at his arm.
He simply smacked the hand away with a quick bite back. "No! It's really not. You wanted me to tell you about this, so I am. Because you are completely wrong. They didn't love us."
"Dirk-"
"Let me try this again. Would a man who could be happy in his marriage and life and hold any love at all for his wife and two sons seriously have enough hate built up in his pathetic body to actually fuck a sixteen year old? Waste every last penny either drinking or gambling it away until we were living off the cheapest food possible. Oh and then four hatred and shitty years later get so fucking drunk that he has enough livid courage to come home, shoot his wife- my fucking mother through the head, them himself, and leave me with a blood filled apartment and a crying toddler. Tell me Jake! Is that something a sane and happy man would do?!"
He was leaning over Jake now, fists in the sheets and his face redder than I had ever seen it. The amount of emotion he just let sip amazed even me. This wasn't the person I knew. Everything he was saying were lies- they had to be lies. They couldn't be true.
Jake was silent, eyes wide and mouth open a bit. Though, none of the silence mattered because I had dropped the glass in my hand. It fell to the ground and shattered on the wood floor just in front of me. Both heads snapped towards the door. For a moment, no one moved, but then, my brother stood. Stumbling a bit from a cover wrapped around his leg, he quickly recovered and walked to the doorway. I wanted to move, scurry back into my room and go to sleep again like I had never heard any of it. But I couldn't. I was shaking, my feet frozen and heavy.
The door opened to expose me to the light of the bedroom. Jake was sitting up now and pulling on a shirt, but I could just feel eyes on me and the water running under my feet. It took all my will to force my head back to look up at him. Bro was towering over me, eyes narrow and mouth pulled into a thin line.
"Why are you awake?" He asked. It was clear he was trying to calm himself back down, but the flaring of his nostrils and the tightness of his features made it clear he was too angry for that now.
"Couldn't sleep." I replied, shaky and almost scared.
"How much did you hear?"
I finally managed to turn my expression into a scowl and drop my voice to an irate tone. "All of it." I replied, clipped and solid.
His jaw noticeably clenched and a fist formed at his side. "You should go back to bed." I shook my head. "Dave-"
"No. I need an explanation."
"You've already heard it all, what else is there?"
"Why you've lied to me for ten years, jackass."
"Now's not the time. Go to bed."
He began to turn, but I grabbed his arm and dug into his skin with my fingers. "We're talking about it now." I knew better than to stand up to my brother, but this was something he couldn't blow off. I needed to know.
His other hand whipped around and grabbed hold of my wrist, bending it back until I let go out of pain and the risk of him breaking it.
"Watch yourself." He hissed under his breath, full intensity of his unshielded eyes burning through me. "Now go."
I jerked my hand back, staring directly up at him and gathering all my strength into my voice. "No. Tell me why you lied."
He continued staring at me. I swear I saw a break in his expression just before he gave a small sigh.
"You were four. What was I supposed to do? You already cried enough just because they died, I couldn't depress you even more by telling you the truth."
"But what about now? I'm old enough to handle this sort of thing."
He pointed to the shattered glass, flat expression returning. "Apparently not."
"I found out through your yelling at Jake. What do you expect?"
"You're supposed to be asleep."
"Even if I was, your voice was loud enough that it would have woken me up anyway."
"So you would have rather known this? Were you not satisfied with what I told you?"
"I was before I knew it was all a lie."
"Well either way, you know now." He grabbed the door beginning to open it, but my hand shot to keep it open.
He stopped, glaring down at me. "Goodnight."
"I'm not done yet." I muttered, putting all my weight to keep the door open. "I need you to tell me something."
He let go of the door, causing me to stumble forward a bit. I quickly tried to regain that built up confidence that was so easily shattered. He simply stared back don, waiting for the rest.
"Am I like him?" It sounded almost weak when I asked it like that, and the sudden flash of guilt that flicked across his eyes didn't help. "You make him out to be awful, and I'm sure he was for what he did, but why am I so much like him?"
He shook his head a little.
"You're a liar."
"If that's not the answer you wanted, why did you ask?"
"I wanted to know the truth- which you obviously can't give."
"Fine, once again, I will give you the information you would be just fine without." He gripped the door frame, leaning down over me. "Yes, you're like him. You are exactly like him. You have a bad temper, a loud mouth, and you only pretend to be better than everyone. You may think you're better- you can go along under the deception that every inkling of a feeling is kept up in you and no one knows what you're feeling when in actuality, everyone with half a brain knows. You think you're being so secretive all the time- let's just take John into account."
"Don't bring john into this." I cut in quickly.
"Let's take John into account." He repeated louder. "Do you seriously think no one can tell how much you fawn over him? We all knew even before you did. It's that obvious. And just like you did there, as soon as I mentioned something you didn't want to talk about, it bothered you, didn't it? You immediately wanted to change the subject .So yes Dave, you are exactly like him. Despite being a drunk, you are a little insensitive prick that will never be able to escape the spiraling circles of assholery and prudish attitude that you have so graciously inherited from our dick of a father. You will never be able to change, you will always be exactly like him, and no matter how much I desperately try, I will always see that fucking evil man that lives inside of you."
It took a minute for all of that to sink in. His words had gone fast, each one pricking my skin with a painful hole that let all my confidence and strength leak out. I was deflating quickly and shaking even more now. If anyone could have insulted me more, it would have been a major accomplishment. He blatantly told me everything wrong about myself, shutting my pride down and killing me a little with each blow.
Without word, I turned and hurried into my room. I was scared but a blind fury had taken over. I grabbed the nearest bag I could, stuffing clothes and various objects into it. There was a thumping of feet down the hall. I whipped around, zipping the bag up, pulling some pants and my shoes on, and stuffing my phone in my pocket. When I turned around, I had expected to see Bro. Instead, Jake was standing in my doorway, with an extremely regretful look. I simply shook my head and angrily pushed past him.
"Don't even try." I grumbled, hopping over the broken glass and sending a very short glance to my brother who was now sitting, head in his hands, on the end of the bed. "Ass." I whispered as I went, fleeing from the apartment without another glance.
With my feet pounding down the steps, my bag bouncing up and down on my back with every move, I skipped the last three and jumped to the bottom. My walk was haste, just below a run. I didn't know where I was going- I knew this was dramatic, irrational, everything Bro taught me not to be, but I couldn't stop. Through the empty lobby and out the doors, I kept going as fast as I could without jogging. It was pitch black outside. At night, it always got a little colder, but it was still relatively warm. But who am I kidding? My mind couldn't give a flying fuck about the weather right now. My feet against the sidewalk had an audible smack to it. I kept walking for at least another ten minutes before I wrenched my phone from my pocket. I quickly found Rose's number and put the phone up to my ear- straight to voicemail.
"God dammit Rose, The one night I actually need to talk to you." My voice came out in a hiss, but was obviously on the verge of breaking again. Shoving my phone back, I tightened my hold on the strap of my bag and raked an arm across my eyes. I wasn't crying by the motion made me a little more willful to keep what may or may not be welling up in my eyes from falling.
How could this have happened? How could he not have told me? And now I was running away. It was so fucking typical of me. Bro was completely right- all I'm good at is complaining and running away. But what was he expecting from me? To dump all this shit on my life and lead himself to believe I wouldn't freak out- and then to compare me to him just because I reacted to the fact my entire memory of my life was basically a lie. He was being the irrational one. He had no right to hide this from me for so long. He-
My foot hit concrete. It stopped moving along with the other and my body had to jerk to keep from falling over. They were at the bottom of a couple steps. My head tipped back, staring up at the white, two story house in front of me. How did I not expect this is where I was going to go? Of course.
I climbed the few steps, stopping once again in front of the door. My fist my raised and inches from the door, but multiple breaths fell from parted lips before I could desperately try to gather any shred of courage back. As my test began to tighten from the thoughts still whirling in my head, I needed relief more than anything. That necessity made my fist begin to pound against the door. I felt awful for coming here in the middle of the night, waking them up, but I needed to be somewhere other than that apartment. I needed people who didn't make me want to yell and rip my hair out. So I continued the beating of my fist until I heard a couple locks click. It dropped by to my side then while I stared at the door expectantly. When it was open, the tall man in front of me stood with a bat in one hand and tired, but still alert eyes open wide. Once he recognized my face, his muscles relaxed and he sighed rather angrily.
"David, why are you here? It's the middle of the night, and you should be asleep." He sat the bat down against the door frame and turned back to me. It was clear his eyes caught my bag because his face was changing to even more confusion. "Why do you have a bag?"
"Mr. Egbert," I began, voice cracking even just through that. I cleared my throat and tried against despite my shaking limbs. "I- I had a fight with my brother. I really just needed to get out of the house. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but believe me, I couldn't stay there. I can explain-"
"Stop." He said strongly, hand rising. "It's fine. From the times I have talked to him, I understand that your brother can be both infuriating and foolish. " He stepped aside, swinging an arm out. "Please, come in, you can explain in the morning."
I walked in and dropped my bag with a quick nod, continuously thanking him before he stopped me just as I took my shoes off.
"Don't worry. You can sleep on the couch. I'll go get you some blankets-"
"Actually," I butted in while he was walking away. He turned back around with the sound of my voice. "Can I go see John?"
"Well I'm sure he's asleep," He stopped, my jaw clenching and features dropping a bit. "But if you need to, I suppose I can't stop you."
With that, he was walking off, but I was already halfway up the stairs. By the time I reached the top, I was back to shaking furiously and fighting back all my emotions. I had the idea of just bursting into John's room, but I tried to restraint myself enough to knock on his door. When that didn't work, my knocks grew a little louder until there was shuffling and footsteps on the other side. The door swung open with a messy haired John with crooked glasses.
"Dad what is it?" He barked. "It's the middle-" He stopped when his eyes opened. My mouth was ready to speak but it just moved round a bit before he tilted his head. "Dave?"
"John I-"
I stopped when he reached over, pulling the bead strand on his light which but it on and illuminated his room as well as a small stretch of the hall.
"Why are you here?"
I just shook my head, shoulders drooping. His brows furrowed even more and his mouth opened again. I stopped him as I reached up and removed my shades. My arm fell back to my side and they clattered to the ground. I could feel my eyes brimming with tears that just wouldn't dare make the plunge yet. His eyes grew a little wider at this and he stepped forward.
"Dave… What's wrong…?"
My eyes clamped shut, head shaking again before I moved quickly. I came toe to toe with him and my arms wound around his back. My hands clawed at his shirt, fingers holding on tight and tugging him as desperately close as I could. He inhaled sharply, surprised and awkward. He just stood there for a moment before his arms fell around him and held on. With that slight contact, everything broke. It had been too much. I was tired and nothing could have saved me from this. Tears finally flew from my eyes and the worst sounds I could ever want anyone to hear tumbled from my lips onto his shoulder. His arms only tightened, not understanding why I was this way, but not even taking the time to question it right now. He simply held on tightly while I freely sobbed like a weak child in his arms.
But if anything else, one of the few things I still knew wasn't a lie on this night, a moment like this only made me love him more.